A New Hope
by Serengeti Dawn
Summary: A very short Star Wars-Star Trek bit of silliness. Enjoy its fluffy filling.


Copyright notice: Star Trek, Voyager, its crew as well as the 24th century are all owned by Paramount. Star Wars and the mess of a universe George Lucas mired himself into is owned by Fox. And they can have them.

Note: One day while I was bored out of my skull in class, I jot down this little bit of a story with my sister in mind, as Voyager really isn't my thing. But here it is, so enjoy.

A New Hope

A spherical, dull gray satellite hung below the crescent of the lifeless red planet the fleet was quickly approaching. For a brief moment, Tom Paris wistfully thought of the scene as the moon of Mother Terra as seen from dropping out of sublight by the Martian Federation checkpoint. But as his communication channel crackled to life, Tom had to remember that this was no moon.

It was a space station.

"Rogue Five, do you copy?"

"Rogue Five, standing by," came the automatic reply. Inwardly, Tom smiled. There was nothing like taking on the persona of a hero to boost the ego a bit.

"Look at the size of that thing!" the com buzzed.

Tom frowned and looked over to the X-wing on his star board side. "That's not your line, Harry."

"I know, but that thing is huge."

"Not really, if you think about it. It would take a helluva lot of those things to fill a Dysonsphere."

"Quit your yakkin' Rogue Five," Gold Leader warned. "Move into attack positions."

With a surge of adrenaline, Tom, or as he preferred to be called at the moment, Luke Skywalker, responded with a brisk, "Copy that, Gold Leader." After a few quick adjustments on his rusty console, he felt his X-wing creak open into battle-ready mode.

"Here they come!"

The first wave of TIE fighters swooped down on the ragtag Rebel fleet with the grace of a hawk circling its prey. A barrage of laser fire rained down on the X-wings.

The rebels fought bravely, but the sheer number of Imperial fighters was simply too much for the small band. One by one, the Alliance ships were gunned down with deadly efficiency. Too soon, only two ships remained, one too badly damaged to help with the fight; the other, the last hope in the galaxy for peace.

Without even looking back, Tom could feel Darth Vader's stylized fighter bearing down on him, a shroud of evil almost touching his soul.

__

Nice realism, Tom mused.

"Rogue Five, you've got a foreign vessel bearing down on your position," Harry's voice said. "I think I can get it."

__

Foreign vessel…?"No, wait Harry-!"

Too late. Tom watched as a flash of light burst behind him, reflecting off the dull metal of the Death Star and quickly fade into the vast oblivion. "Aw, for crying out loud- computer, freeze program."

__

Voyager's holodeck instantly responded, halting the recreation of the famous 20th century fantasy. Tom grimaced as he saw the reflection of Vader's laser cannons halfway to taking out his engine. "Harry," he barked into the com, "you just blew up the _Millennium Falcon_!"

"That was the _Falcon_? I thought the computer had glitched."

"Why?"

"Well, it looked like a garbage scow."

"What the hell are you talking about, Harry?" The _Millennium Falcon_ is-_was_" he darkly emphasized, "a work of art. Can't you see the design principals of it at work in Federation starships?"

There was a brief pause. "I guess…except Federation vessels don't look like they were assembled with rust."

Tom sighed. "What have you got against _Star Wars,_ anyway?"

"Nothing. There just aren't any secretaries in dire need of our assistance."

"There's the Princess."

"That cold fish?"

"Hey, I offered you the part of Han Solo, which you declined. Now, if you had reviewed the entire scenario-"

"Look, Tom, I went into the archives, and the only young, dashing man I could find in the second episode looked like a little teen with issues. Not my idea of a good time."

"Harry, did you look at the second episode or the second episode of the first trilogy?"

"Aren't they the same?"

"No."

Harry sighed. "Can't we just go back to playing space rangers in your Proton scenario?"

"Sorry, Harry. I erased it."

"No more secretaries?"

"Sorry."

Another pause. "Want to open the Middle Earth file?"

"One more shot at the Death Star, then we can go hunt some orcs."

"You're on."

And the Death Star exploded magnificently behind them.


End file.
